


Dreamers

by cortchuzska



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-23
Updated: 2014-03-23
Packaged: 2018-01-16 17:48:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1356394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cortchuzska/pseuds/cortchuzska
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We all dream of things we cannot have.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dreamers

“Did you kill him?”

Sansa held his green gaze. The same as Joffrey; his same high cheekbones, delicate features, shapely nose and endless arrogance. His same lips too, plump and crimson as to be the envy of any woman – his sister's lips – at odds with a hard set mouth, yet becoming him. Jaime Lannister was striking indeed. Who else could have been the sire of Joffrey, Joffrey who had beheaded her father after promising he would live, who wallowed in cruelty and relished in her misery, if not the very man who had made of oathbreaking a careless habit, who had tossed a child out of a window on a whim, who begot children on his own sister?

She stepped down from the dais, and forced herself not to wince while brushing a greeting kiss. “Goodbrother...” The same smell, too. He was thinner than she remembered, almost as a boy; if allowed to live, in a few years Joffrey would have been his lookalike.

Her fingers grazed lightly his jaw. “You re growing a beard, I see. It befits you, as it did Lord Tywin. You look much like him: such father, such son, isn't it what they say?” The true son of the man who had order slain Princess Elia and her children, who had planned her brother's and her mother's murders at his uncle's wedding feast. At the news Joffrey had gloated, Tyrion could not meet her eyes, while Tywin Lannister had kept impassive, and Petyr had taught her well. Sansa needed not asking. The same Lannister blood, tainted with treachery.

“Come on, goodsister, there is nothing to be afraid of here: nor a fellow kingslayer's judgement, less the sword of a cripple.”

He had killed his king; he had let Rhaegar's children be killed, and he did not care for mercy; but deep down, he still hoped it wasn't Tyrion; or at least, not his brother alone.

Brienne couldn't believe that of her, a gentle heart who dreamed things could be just like they were in songs. _Sansa Stark could never..._ Jaime knew better. _No more than a boy who dreamed to be Arthur Dayne could kill the king he was sworn to protect._

“I swore your mother to keep you safe, if you will have an oathbreaker's oath.”

If the Lion offered willingly his throat, should not the Wolf tear his flesh?

“I did.” The lie slid effortlessly from her lips, nor was it, strictly speaking, a lie. She had wished for Joffrey to die and her hairnet had carried his poison. A good lie should be sprinkled with a grain of truth, enough for you to believe it, said Petyr; this one carried too much of a truth she herself could not clearly make out.

“Why?”

She felt the urge to wipe out from his face that knowing smile, as he couldn't believe her, as he always knew better.

“I loved him. I would have done anything for him.” Sansa paused. “I dreamed I was his Jonquil, and Joffrey my Florian.”

“Kingslayers ought to be more careful with what they wish for, and they should never listen to songs to begin with.” That's where Joffrey's petty cruelty came from, she thought for a flinch at Jaime's mockery; but she was too adept at wearing a mask, at being one, as he was as not to notice a crack in his veneer.

“I was betrothed to my gallant Prince, brave and proud and gentle, with gold shining on his brow; and I mistook your vile bastard for the knight of a song.”

Jaime harsh laugh startled Sansa. Which man would laugh at a son's death, if not a monster? Which man would pursue who killed him to the far end of the world, hear the confession and make a jape of it? Only a madman.

“I dreamed of being one, of honour and glory, and became one of Aerys's Seven.” The cockiness he wore like an armour crumbled in a bitter sneer. “You made true of your dreams, and woke up to a nightmare.”

Which man would, if not a broken one?

 


End file.
